Saturday, August 24, 2019

Here I come, beachcombing,
The waves are silent now.
There is no more to seek.
The sun has gone below the line,
a moment of stark nothingness.
That's the time for the sea to speak.
I watch for the farthest tide
touched by the molten gold.
Several breakers have come and gone
before the one that is remote journeys forth
to reach the rock where I receive
the tired wave. In exhaustion and ecstasy, in the final leap, it rises high,
then leaves its treasure which is now the surf in its shiny strings of pearls.
The things I sought and could not find
in my long effort at beachcombing
now lie in abundance before my eyes,
But with a difference! These are the wonders I cannot possess
unlike the shells and conch, I gathered
in the long hours spent in combing the beach
Image credit: @fawzi hejazi, Thanks for the image


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